


A Peaceful Night in the Spire

by FeralCoffeeBug



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Bug Death, Death, Drabble, Luriens fuckin dead, Threats of Violence, Written at 1am, city of tears, enjoy, no beta we die like PK, or well lurien in this case, rigor mortis - Freeform, threats to family, while I was writing this I was like “how much can I describe before my brain shuts off”
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:53:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28570314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeralCoffeeBug/pseuds/FeralCoffeeBug
Summary: The breath of a memory of friends speaking to one another in quiet tones as deaf claws mindlessly shaped the wood, memories of laughter shared in private.
Comments: 16
Kudos: 11





	A Peaceful Night in the Spire

It was a peaceful night in the spire

Rain softly pattered against the large glass window, the dew drops racing one another down before finally falling to the floor several feet down. A window that allowed the soft lumifly light from the city streets to filter through the curtain, bathing the contents of the room in a soft blue light. The window being cracked open just so, a soft breeze causing the soft curtains to brush against dark wood that was whittled with old imperfections of a lazy and distracted hand carving into the wood. The breath of a memory of friends speaking to one another in quiet tones as deaf claws mindlessly shaped the wood, memories of laughter shared in private.

The cold air bit at the soft shell that belonged to nothing other than the keeper of this tower. The soft wind brushing against the few tufts of hair that stuck out from under the drapery that covered the bug. Tools strewn about the stone floor, air long since gone stale with nothing but the feeling of utter stillness. Soft breaths reaching into the air, alight with the cold filtering through the room. Reaching up up up and dispersing into the air. Soft breaths that should be there, a few dull claws clasped just barely around the wood of a paint brush. A lazy and sleep ridden grip, one that would be easily broken with even just a brush of cloth against the hand.  
  


Soft traces of life; a rustled carpet, shifted sheets, a tipped over art easel, and a curled up body in the middle of it all.

Four arms tucked into the chest, legs curled up over that. A soft murky blue cloak resting peacefully over it all. A mask cracked in two, one end sitting gently a few feet away. The other of unknown status. Shards of glass scattered, glinting in pale light. A dull, lifeless gaze upturned at the ceiling. Not a breath of life remained, everything eerily still. 

A candle long since snuffed out, time didn’t give it the satisfaction of fulfilling its purpose before it’s life was ended. 

A note, written in a tongue not many mortals could understand, glowing a soft, yet burning orange.

“ **I have taken the one that oversees, your eyes long gone blind. Heed my warnings and neglect what you have stolen from this land, lest a tragedy such as this befallen your family next.** ”

The watchers soul was finally laid to rest.

_It was a peaceful night in the spire._


End file.
